Jane Air: The Girl Who Couldn't Spell Her Name
by Blackie Shell Paws and Furface
Summary: A little parody of mine about Jane Eyre. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey! _

_Thanks to anyone who is reading this, and an even bigger thanks to anyone planning on reviewing! Just to say, please look at my other story (a parody of Wolf Brother) if you can :)_

_Love from Furfacexxx_

_Ps. I know this chapter is short, and the others are too, it's how I write parodies: short but hopefully funny chapters ;)_

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Jane Air, the girl who couldn't spell her name**

"I'm too thin, and weak, and stupid. I'm ugly, and my hair's greasy," I moaned to myself as I walked over a giant pile of autumn leaves, "I'm tired, I want to sleep, or read my book."

"Oh, Jane, don't be so sad," Mrs Reed said in a fake loving voice. She hated me, and I hated her for hating me. It was obvious that she hated me from her far-too-sweet manner of talking to me.

"Why must you be so horrible and rude?!" I cried, starting to run into the far distance.

"Jane! Jane, darling! Why are you angry at me?" She sounded so loving, that if I didn't know (from my obviously-right theory(which had not been proven yet)), I would have thought that the softness was genuine.

I had been on the verge of thinking up a reply, but by the time I had heard, understood, analysed and processed the true meaning of the words, I had already receded too far into my emo-ness to speak. Luckily, I could still sprint, and I was so fast that no one had ever caught up with me (apart from that garden snail….), so I ran to the library, confident no one would catch up.

I picked up my favourite book, and, panting heavily, I sat down. Opening the book, I found the familiar sight of my favourite dark, gloomy, depressing drawings. The drawing of a dead fish caught my eye; it always did though. The fish reminded me of myself, whilst the dirt, filth, and dark surroundings reminded me of Mrs Reed and my cousins (all apart form John, who loved me). I turned to another page to find another drawing, this time of a ripped piece of paper. Looking at it, I could immediately see the connection between the piece of paper ripped into the shape of an aubergine and me. The paper ripped into the shape of an eggplant looked like Mrs Reed.

I shut the book, disturbed by the connections.

"JANE! GET _OUT_!" John screamed, glaring happily at the muddy paw-prints I had left on the floor on my way in. He loved it when I gave him more to clean, but my theory was that he always pretended to hate it because he was worried Mrs Reed would be angry at him for being nice to me.

I winked at my true love cheekily before exiting the room, circling my hips sexily.

"You're UGLY, and ANNOYING and STUPID! I _HATE_ YOU, NEVER FORGET THAT!" John shouted out of pure fright of Mrs Reed.

"I love you too, Honey!" I called. He spat on my dress as I left.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

I had been awaiting John for 4 hours now. He still had not come. He had stood me up.

"John! How could you?" I shrieked.

"What?!" He asked.

"You didn't come!" And before he could make any excuse, I had picked up a book and thrown it at him.

"You are so nasty! You are like a slave-trader! Like the devil! Like Hell itself! Like a tree!" I screamed angrily. He fell to the floor a few minutes after the book had.

"ARRRGGGHHHH!" We both screamed as the pain struck us. The muscles in my arm were seizing up from the effort it had taken to throw the book (it weighed a whole 100g, with a shocking 3 pages (which I had all read)). Luckily, I was strong, and I didn't black out.

"Jane?!" Mrs Reed's rough voice interrupted my suffering, "Jane? Are you alright?" She strode in,

"What have you DONE John?-John? John? Are you alright? Jane, what have you done?"

"He didn't come see me...He stood me up- and I'm his _girlfriend_!" I managed to say, the pain making my mouth dry.

"Jane…" Mrs Reed's voice becoming more menacing as she realised it _was_ all John's fault, "As your punishment, you are going to have to live in the red room for the next hour!"

"Nooooooo!" I wailed, trailing off ominously as Mrs Reed dragged me upstairs (with the help of Bessie). Life was so unfair- why was I getting punished for being injured?

After entering the red room, I was told to sit still and be quiet or be tied in a yoga position to my chair.

The red room was red, like hatred, blood, anger and...strawberries(of course)!

Suddenly a lamp fell over by my spasmodically twitching foot. I screamed. The ghost of my late uncle (late home from work that is) was here.

I blacked out as my pulse reached 2 beats/minute and my blood pressure rose by 53.4216%.

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_Thanks for reading! Review as well! I'm sorry if this isn't so good, I keep getting writers block! :/ _

_Furface xxx  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hi! I'm BACK! Slow, short chapters- my FAVOURITE! So basically, I'm sorry if you dislike this story, but for me (who spent MONTHS studying the silly, minute details with school) it's quite funny ;) Yup, I laugh as I write... At my own stuff... How sad? So read on, read on... And enjoy (hopefully :s)._**

**_And please review!_**

**_Also, I don't own Jane Eyre...  
_**

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Chapter 3

I was woken up by Bessie, who was hitting me over the head with a wet fish.

"Wake up, you silly girl!" She yelled in a scottish accent, forcing me to sit up.

I complied and sat up, but something wasn't quite right… Of course!

"I could _swear_ that you weren't scottish, Bessie!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, not again." She moaned, putting her face in her hands, "You _always_ forget! And my name is Benji! Not Bessie!"

"_Sure_, so you're saying that you've _always_ been Scottish, Bessie!"

"Well, yes! And my name is Benji! Bessie is a girl's name! I'm a _man_!"

I shook my head and leaned over to grab a glass of water. Bessie was Bessie, and she was slightly mad too, but she was so much nicer to me than anyone else here at Fenceshed Cottage.

"Where's my water?" I asked, as my hand could not find it. She glared at me kindly and handed me my glass, which she had been holding. The water sloshed all over me, but I didn't have the heart to refuse the empty glass after she had been so nice.

"Mrs Reed said you had to eat from the Teletubby plate." She grumbled, her beard (which was longer than my hair) glistening in the light as she spoke. I beamed. I hadn't been allowed to eat from the Teletubby plate since I was five (Mrs Reed always said I was 'too grown up,' but I knew that it was because she used it herself).

I finished my meal quickly although it was revolting (roast lamb and potatos with gravy[why couldn't I just have my usual mouldy bread with apple juice?]).

"The doctor's here!" Bessie called as he (the doctor) entered the room.

"Why _hello_ there!" The doctor smiled, his head rotating to the side in a _very_ non-creepy way, "It seems that you've been unconscious for around 15 minutes!"

"15 _minutes_!" It came as a shock, "That's almost a whole day!"

He gave me a funny look, "Not quite…" He muttered, "Anyhow, you look fine and healthy to me, so I'll just go downstairs and collect the money." Then he backed out of the room slowly, his hunched back (for he was a quasimodo) seeming double-hunched, and his nose-hair seeming double-thick.

I smiled and waved, then I fell back asleep, woken only once by Bessie slapping me as to stop my 'snoring.' Of course, I don't snore, so it must have been John (the walls in my room were very thin).

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_**Oh, almost forgot to add, if you have any good parodies of Mr Brocklehurst, review and tell me ;) Only limits are- he has to be somehow related to a fairytale (remember how she says he had a big nose and big eyes, like in little red hiding hood?), and you have to tell me what fairytale :) The person with the idea will be credited properly as well ;) Thanks in advance,**_

_**Furface :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4 is here! Please read it, as it will probably be the last I post to this story :( I'm totally out of ideas and the story is starting to just go crazy. If anyone likes it, please tell me. And if you don't like it, tell me that too :)**_

_**Also- if you don't like it, there's no need to be rude about it- just say 'The story is rather boring... Yeah, so I dislike it thoroughly' as opposed to getting all annoyed about how I've posted some 'rubbish' on the internet about 'such an amazing, awe-inspiring, incredible, idolised, stunning, staggering, awsome (you get the point) book.' May I mention that it's a parody, not a hatefiction.**_

_**Thank you :)**_

_**Furface x  
**_

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Chapter 4  
"Jane! You have a visitor!" Mrs Reed called. I walked downstairs slowly.  
"Hello Mr…?"  
"Brockleheart."  
"You're really short." I stated the obvious. He was approximately 1m 32cm (and I would say around 4mm).  
He glared up at me.  
"Does that make me your superior? Because I'm taller?"  
"No! Now I have a speech all prepared! So listen!"  
"But I'm taller than you."  
"I know! But I'm still the headmaster of a school! No LISTEN!"  
"OK?"  
"I'm inviting you to join Darkwood, it's a really good school." He began in a strained voice.  
The speech continued but I was too busy wondering who he reminded me of to listen.  
"So, do you like the sound of Darkwood? Do you want to join?"  
"I've got it!" I exclaimed, "You remind me of Grumpy! From Snow White!"  
Mr Brockleheart glared.  
"Turn that frown upside-down, Grumpy! I'll come to your school if it means that much to you!"  
"I'm leaving. Goodbye!" And he left.  
"Caioue!"  
"It's ciao, actually." He said in a very snooty voice as he disappeared through the doorway.  
"Mrs Reed?" I called. She came and I told her everything. From the look on her face (worried, anxious, scared, glaring out the door where Brockleheart left through), she loved Darkwood.

I left the following morning. The journey was long, and arduous (and so, so boring), but once we arrived, I knew it had been worth the drive.  
Darkwood was large, the building green with mould and poison ivy. A majority of the walls were crumbling and you could see into the dorms through the crumbling window frames (which didn't contain windows).  
"I love it!" I shrieked, running from the carriage and straight into the school, "Hello, Darkwood!"  
I received a few scared looks from some fellow students, all of them staring at me wide eyed.  
"I suppose you're Jane Eyre. I'm Charlotte. I'll lead you to your room." A girl who had appeared out of nowhere said.  
"Why yes! Thank you! But how did you appear out of nowhere? Is this a magic school?" The girl gave me an odd look.  
"No, I came around the corner."  
"Oh."  
"Here's our room."  
The beds were all dilapidated, but I guessed it was the style. It was indeed, very stylish.  
"Where's the bathroom?"  
"There is none. We wash over a sink and go to the toilet outside." I laughed at her amazing humour.  
"It's not funny." What's-her-name (Champy? Charles? Chimp? Char? I had forgotten) was starting to sound a bit like a bored robot.  
"OK then, Miss Boring."  
"Dinner is being served now." She said in a strained voice.  
"I'll relax a bit."  
"I have to show you the dining hall. And I'm hungry." From the look of her bones (they were very prominent), she was obviously fed a lot, and missing out on a meal wouldn't hurt her.  
"Well I'm going to relax."  
I lay down on my bed and fell asleep.


End file.
